cause and effect
by Sane-in-Insanity
Summary: Dean/Castiel — Lay your wings to rest.


_Note: A companion piece to _when the music fades. Please read that before this one :)_  
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**cause and effect**

_Lay your wings to rest._

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Dean has always been a light sleeper.

"Cas?" He whispers, voice throaty from sleep. He blinks, trying to clear his vision as he squints at the silhouette next to his bed. Cas is still awake. Guilt squeezes within Dean's chest; what was he doing snoring away like a friggin' pig when Cas can't even have a minute of shut-eye without triggering some sort of seizure? "You 'kay?"

Cas doesn't even look at him. "Can't sleep, as usual," he mutters into his arms, body hunched over like he's trying to shield himself from something. "Don't worry about me, Dean."

It's a rather dumb request, really; all Dean _does_ is worry about people when he's not ganking demons. Hey, it's not his fault that he is secretly a care bear (though he doesn't admit it to anyone). He scowls at Cas, even though the angel—no, he's a human, a _man _now—can't see him. "How long has it been since you last slept?"

Dean remembers the day Cas fell from Heaven. He knew something was very wrong the moment he laid eyes on Cas at the time, who stumbled into his motel room the door instead of zapping in with his fluffy angel wings like he usually did. There was no physical wound on Cas, but he looked so weary and vulnerable and sad that Dean's heart seemed to stop for a second. He grabbed Cas when the angel swayed precariously on his feet, and before Dean could ask what the _fuck _was going on, Cas was out cold.

Fear clutched at Dean like razor-sharp pincers; Cas once said that angels don't sleep. For a second, Dean thought Cas was actually dead, but he remembered that when angels die, they emit a blinding white light that would burn a mortal's eyes out like barbecue He sighed in relief, then. At that point, he realized that there could only be one explanation for Cas' frighteningly fragile state: he's no angel anymore.

Cas seemed to sleep for eternity since he collapsed in Dean's arms. It was nothing short of _freaky_, the way the former angel slept (if that's even the correct word for it); Cas struggled and cried and screamed in his unconscious state. Dean figured he was having some abysmal nightmare and tried to wake him, but to no avail. Cas just stayed comatose, immune to all kinds of physical calling.

There was nothing Dean could do but wait. It was terribly frustrating, seeing Cas so helpless and in pain yet unable to do a damned thing about it.

One night, when Dean was half asleep next to Cas' bed, Dean almost jumped out of his skin when Cas bolted upright all of a sudden, looking wild-eyed and frightened. In a way, the sight of Cas shockingly awake and unhinged was even worse—and everything went downhill from there.

"Since the day I fell," Cas replies, point-blank.

Technically speaking, Cas was out for _days_ since he fell, but Dean isn't bitchy like Sam so he isn't going to correct Cas. Instead, he says, "That's five days ago. You've gone mortal now." Dean doesn't know why he's being such a _mother _about this. Cas probably knows better than him, anyway. "You need to sleep, or you'll—"

"Die?" Cas interrupts harshly, startlingly blue eyes glaring at Dean. "Right now, it seems like the more favorable option to me."

Dean stares at the man, speechless. He can't believe it. From day one, Cas has always been about surviving and persisting and now, it's all gone along with the angel inside him. Suddenly, Dean knows why he finds Cas' statement so disturbing; it's such a _human _thing to say.

"You don't mean that."

Cas says nothing to that and Dean _hates _it. The former angel drops back onto his bed and turns away. "Good night, Dean."

This is stupid. Dean will not to let this continue. He knows there's nothing much he can do, not really; he is only a man, after all. He can destroy spirits, behead vampires and kill demons but this—this is not in his area of expertise.

Dean's going to try, anyway.

With a nervous gulp, he climbs into Cas' bed and presses close behind the man, an arm slung around his waist. It's a severely intimate gesture that violates all of Dean's manly principles, but fuck them all. This is _Cas _and he is far more important than Dean's masculine insecurities.

"What are you doing, Dean?" Cas doesn't sound in the least bit happy. Now that he's gone human, he's probably starting to worry about personal space and all that crap. Talk about bad timing.

"It's worth a try," Dean explains, his cheeks flushing and not for the first time, he is thankful for the darkness. "M'not gonna let you die on me from something as ridiculous as insomnia."

"You don't need to—" _Give it a rest already, Jesus-fucking-Christ._

"Goodnight, Cas."

To Dean's respite, Cas stops arguing and finally shuts up. Dean sighs softly and closes his eyes, trying not to snuggle closer. He is a man and a man has his dignities. He's already pushing the limits as he is.

Dean is determined not to fall asleep until Cas does, which means they're both probably going to stay up the whole night. Somehow, Dean doesn't care.

For a guy who has acute insomnia, Cas sure falls off the radar pretty quick. Within ten minutes, Cas' breathing slows down and deepens, and Dean's lips quirk up in a small smile. Great, he's becoming a cuddler as well as a sap.

However, when Dean's beginning to drift off, Cas starts writhing faintly in his arms. Dean's initial reaction is annoyance; can't the guy just rest for five minutes without an apocalypse blowing up in his head? His irritation is replaced by disquiet when he recalls the last time Cas was in this state. Dean winces slightly when Cas' fingers close around his hand in a trembling, iron grip.

Dean is about nudge Cas awake when he flinches and stops struggling. His breaths are coming short and quick and for an absurd moment, Dean thinks Cas has tipped over the edge for good, but he dismisses the notion. Cas is stronger than that.

Instinctively, Dean's arm curls closer around Cas' body. "I got you, Cas," he murmurs, ignoring how embarrassingly chick-flicky it must sound. "I got you."

Dean feels Cas relax in his embrace, and he can't help but smile once again. For some reason, Dean knows that this time, Cas is going to be alright because although Dean is awful at comforting others, he's going to be there for Cas for as long as he can. He may only be a man, but this much he can do.

Maybe, one day he will even pull Cas out of his nightmares once and for all, like Cas pulled him out of Hell a lifetime ago—because, really, it's about time Dean does something for Cas.

He just hopes it's not too little, too late.

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_I hope you liked this fic written from Dean's viewpoint :) Whose POV did you like more? Please don't favorite without leaving a review!_


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